Guilty Conscience
by lil-lover16
Summary: When Puck comes across the scene of a crime, he can only think that it could've been him beating up the pale, fragile boy. The boy reminds him that it wasn't, that he changed. Maybe he was right about Puck. T cause I'm paranoid. Two-shot
1. Chapter 1

New story! I'm obsessed with Kurt/ Puck and Kurt/ Sebastian, so I'll pretty much ship only those two. But please PM me or review with a pair you'd like me to write about! I'm all for switching it up!

Faster

Chapter 1: Save Me

If you ever hear, "Please, help me," coming from a dark alleyway, I'd advise you not to go in and look. There were a couple times when I had went in and gotten beaten up, or at least people tried to, but couldn't cause I'm just that much of a stud.

But there was one time, one tiny moment, when I heard the pitiful call, that I thought, "Not gonna happen." And yet, the voice was very familiar to me, so I decided to ignore the voices in my head, saying, "Idiot. Again? Will you ever learn?" And it turns out, they were very wrong. An innocent life was spared because of me.

Not to be a big bragging asshole. But it's true. Oh, and in case you're thinking, "oh, it's just some dumb story about how I became the town hero for saving a chick's life, we fell in love, blah, blah, friggin' blah, it wasn't like that. Not exactly anyway. Yeah, I guess I became the town hero, at least for a week or so, until something more interesting came up, but that's not the important thing. I fell in love. Me, Noah Man-Whore Puckerman, fell in love with my best friend's step-brother. The most flamboyant, fashion-obsessed, and, well, _gay_, kid of them all, I fell in love with him. Before you think it was some dumbass prank, I'll tell you my side of the story…

I had been walking to Santana Lopez's house, my current booty-call, fling, whatever you call it, that's what it was, except it wasn't love. Never. Anyway, walking to her house I heard a noise, something between a sob and a cough, and a bunch of familiar voices. I recognized Dave Karofsky's, and Azimio Adams', and a lot of other guys from the football team.

"What do we do?" came Karofsky's panicked voice, though I couldn't hear siren's which usually made someone panic like crazy. I figured they'd just beat up some random freshman, but I was completely wrong.

"I dunno," Azimio said quietly, and I could hear his pacing, loud and anxious on the cement.

"We can't just leave him here! What if he dies?"

Oh fuck. They just murdered someone, or so they thought. I heard pleading cries and a bunch of relieved sighs, coming from Karofsky and Azimio mostly.

"He's alive," one football player said, though I couldn't remember his name. He was our kicker I think, but he wasn't very good.

"Only just," Azimio said tensely, kicking at the wall and yelling angrily. "Fuck! How will we explain this? He could die on us at any moment!"

"Why don't we just bring him to the hospital and tell them we found him?" Karofsky suggested nervously.

"Are you retarded?!" Azimio cried. "They'd see us and immediately know we did it! We don't look as pretty princess innocent as Hudson!"

"How about we run? It'll look like suicide if we leave a knife and a gun," someone asked.

"Better, I like that thinking!" Azimio said, and I could practically see the stressed, shaky grin.

In the end, they decided to drop the weapons and run. I waited a minute until they had left for good and walked into the alleyway cautiously. I bit my lip as I saw blood in small pools and smeared across the ground. This was worse than I thought.

Then, I saw him, just lying there, his body twisted in odd angles, blood flooding the ground around him, and his mouth open and bleeding as well. He made a gurgling noise and coughed, blood spattering the ground as he shakily tried to lift his body up slightly.

Kurt Hummel. The innocent little angel-boy, queer as a three-dollar bill, and stylish as all get out, lying there in his own gore and pleading quietly for someone to help him.

"Please," he whispered, almost to himself as he squinted his eyes shut in pain. "Please, help me."

"Kurt," I breathed, rushing over to him and slipping on the mess of crimson bricks, dark and slick.

He looked up at me pitifully. "No-"

He coughed violently and I saw some of the horrible stomach wounds as he turned his body in on himself.

"N-Noah," he whimpered. "I'm scared. I don't wanna die! They said I would die! Please help me!"

I petted the damp, scraggily hair out of his beautiful blue-grey eyes, which were wet with desperate tears.

"It's okay; we'll go to Santana's house and use her car. Mine's far away, so let's go. I'll carry you," I said, calming him a little and I picked him up bridal style, careful not to touch any injuries.

"It h-hurts, Noah," Kurt huffed, breathing hard and gasping at the sudden shift of the world, as he lay in my arms. I ran, as fast as I could with a dying teenage boy in my arms, to Santana's apartment building. I got in the elevator and pressed the button to go to the eighth floor, where Santana lived.

I waited, softly petting Kurt and whispering soothing nonsense to him, wishing I could believe he'd be fine, but I couldn't promise him anything.

I knocked on the apartment door and waited, shaking still from the cold October evening.

Santana opened the door wide, her mouth set in a snarl until she saw the scarlet mass in my arms, heard the whimpered cries, and realized who it was.

"Noah, what—"

"I found him in that alleyway near your building. It was Azimio and Karofsky, and the rest of football team. We need your car to get him to the hospital," I blurted, trying to get her door closed and usher her out of the apartment.

"Oh my god," she murmured, her hand over her mouth in shock as I dragged her to her sports car in the parking lot of the apartment complex.

"I know, but we have to hurry. Get his bag that I saw in the alleyway and I'll start the car, okay? His cell phone is probably in it, and we can call his dad to tell him," I ordered and she split off from us, going to get the bag.

I got Kurt in the car by ducking under the roof of the car and sliding him in slowly, trying not to let his head get bumped or let him get jostled in any way.

Santana came back with Kurt's leather satchel and gave it to me as we climbed in the front seats.

"Did you find a cell phone?" I asked. She nodded and pulled it out of the front pocket. "Dial Mr. Hummel. You know their home phone, right?" She nodded again, and started to dial.

"Mr. Hummel?" she inquired as the man answered. "This is Santana Lopez, a friend of Kurt's from glee club. There's been an attack on your son."

I heard nothing an as I drove I waited anxiously for his reply. Eventually I heard a gruff, "Where should I go?"

"We are headed to the Lima Hospital."

"'We' who?" Burt asked.

"Noah Puckerman, who found him, and me," Santana answered.

"I would've thought he'd have been part of it," Burt stated. My jaw clenched and my grip on the steering wheel was harder.

_Gee thanks, Mr. Hummel. I'm so delighted to be given your absolute hatred when I just saved your son_, I thought, but what I said was, "I'd never do that Mr. Hummel."

"Alright," he mumbled. "Thank you Santana, we're on our way."

The dial-tone rang as he hung up and Santana looked at me sympathetically, patting my arm softly.

I sighed and drove even faster to the hospital. We arrived there in no time, due to my race-car-driver skills, and I parked.

We need to get him a wheelchair or something. See if you can find one at the front while I get Kurt."

San nodded and hurried off to get a chair. I looked down at an even-more-pale-than-usual Kurt, who was biting his lip softly and crying, before picking him up silently, and locking the door to the car.

The Latina girl returned with a wheelchair and looked at the fragile boy in my arms.

"Hi Kurt, remember me?" she asked.

He muttered something like, "Well, duh," but I couldn't really tell. I just looked into his oceanic eyes and smiled reassuringly.

We hustled to the emergency wing and went up to the desk.

Santana walked back to us from the desk. "Our friend got attacked. It's really bad and he could bleed to death, and all she says is, 'Wait till I get a doctor and fill out these bull-shit forms while I'm at it'. Bitch."

Normally I would've laughed aloud, but looking at the boy staring into my eyes, I couldn't. Nothing could make me laugh now. I don't think I could ever laugh again if Kurt died.

_He will _not_ die,_ I thought. _Please don't let him die._

Finally, a doctor came and wheeled Kurt to a room, telling us not to come unless we wanted to see a lot of blood.

"Noah!" Kurt wailed. "D-Don't leave me!"

"Sir, I have to come," I told the elderly man.

He sighed and shrugged. "Be prepared."

"I _am _the one who found him, and he was worse off then," I muttered, reminding myself of the scarlet river surrounding him.

We walked (well, Kurt was wheeled), down a long, seemingly endless hallway, until we got to a door that said 'Room 208' on a plaque.

We entered and already there were a bunch of other doctors, maybe three or four more than the one wheeling Kurt.

"What blood type are you?" a nurse asked me quietly. "He'll need a blood transplant."

"Um, I dunno, but you can test me if you need to," I said bravely, even though I secretly was a scared little puppy when it came to needles.

"Thank you," she said, sitting me down in a plastic chair away from where Kurt was lying in a bed, the sheets already turning pink from his gaping wounds.

I bit my lip and looked away as the nurse stuck a needle in my arm and took a bit of blood. She quickly tested it and found Kurt's blood type as well. She smiled.

"Good, you two match perfectly," she grinned, sticking the needle in my arm again, after sterilizing it thoroughly. I yelped but quickly shut up. This was nothing compared to what Kurt's probably feeling, I reminded myself.

She took a pint of blood and I felt dizzy. "Go to the cafeteria and get a cookie and apple juice to keep you from passing out. Taking blood is gross and makes you dizzy, so get your booty to the café," the nurse said and I hobbled out of Kurt's room and down the long, spinning hallway. I saw San with a tall, burly figure and I collapsed in one of the chairs.

"Took your blood?" San asked.

I nodded, but that hurt my head and I moaned, covering my aching eyes with my bloody hands. "I feel like poop."

The figure next to San smiled briefly and then returned to frowning deeply.

"San, will you get me a cookie and apple juice from the cafeteria?" I asked.

"Yeah, sure," Santana said, gladly willing to escape the tortuous silence a man who could lose his son at any moment made.

I sighed as she left and leaned back against the back of the chair.

"You saved him?" Burt said quietly, almost unbearably softly, almost too soft so as I couldn't hear.

But I did, and I nodded slowly, not wanting a migraine to add to the already crappy day. "Yeah, I did."

"Who did it?"

"The football team, minus Mike, Sam, Finn and me, obviously. But, yeah, Karofsky, Azimio, and a bunch of others were there."

"He's the only thing I have left to live for," Burt sobbed. "He reminds me so much of Elizabeth."

"Elizabeth. She was your wife, am I correct?" I wondered.

"Yes, she was. K-Kurt, he looks so much like his mother, sometimes I can't stand it. I love him so much, and yet I never know what to say exactly. But it just kills me when he comes home from school, broken and devastated from the kids who pick on him. He doesn't think I can see through his 'I'm perfectly fine' mask, but I don't know what to say, so I don't mention it. I tried so hard to find what I should say when he would finally come out, and when he did, I just completely forgot, and I know that it's better than what some other parents would say, but I just get tongue-tied. And I can't… I just can't let him die. I love him so much."

This brought tears to my eyes, but I held them back. I sniffled and silently mourned for the sad, grieving father next to me. "I know, sir," I said, because I couldn't let him die either.

When Santana came back, we had both gotten it together, but she smiled sadly, giving me the food and drink, and told me she was leaving, and to pick up my truck from her house the next day.

"Or, you know, whenever you feel like it," she said, leaving me alone again with Mr. Hummel.

I heard my best friend's voice coming down the hallway and I looked up, finding Finn in my sight.

We just looked at each other until I saw that tears were in his deep brown eyes, threatening to leak out.

I stood up and hugged him tightly, not a manly, bro-mance hug, but one of actual comfort to us both, and Finn began to cry on my shoulder.

"H-He's like a brother! I just can't lose him after being such an ass to him," Finn mumbled into my shoulder. "I j-just can't. I feel so guilty knowing he could just… be gone. In an instant, he could stop breathing, and he wouldn't know that I think he's perfect. He's so brave, and fun, and strong, he doesn't deserve to die!"

"I know, I agree," I said, pressing my face into Finn's chest to hide my tears.

"He's gone through so much pain physically and verbally, and I hate that I was a part of that once, but it doesn't change anything."

We were silent after that, just waiting in one big, mournful circle, and if I were feeling at all humorous I would make jokes about how the atmosphere made me want to write emo poetry, but all I felt was guilty. Guilty, and scared.


	2. Chapter 2

Sorry darlings, been a bit busy. Here's the second chapter. Please read and review!

Chapter 2: Wishful Thinking

I had fallen asleep in the hospital chair. I realized this when I woke to the smell of antiseptic and that too-clean scent that I couldn't place. The florescent lighting made my head spin and I noticed a sore feeling in my arm, rubbing it carelessly. I yelped and looked down at the cotton ball taped to the inner skin of my elbow. Right, I had my blood taken. To save Kurt.

My heart felt like it was half-there. My best friend's step-brother was in the hospital, had almost died last night, and the football team was to blame. Rage spread throughout my veins, but I knew payback wasn't possible. Nothing could make up for almost murdering an innocent boy. Not a Patriotic wedgie, Slushie in the face, or a Swirly. No, those were elementary school pranks compared to the attempted murder the jocks had under their belts.

A deep snore came from my left and I smiled softly at my best friend's peaceful face as he slept, a sight I'd seen so many times it felt natural to watch him sleep.

Burt was on my right, sleeping fitfully.

I realized I had been gone all night. My mom was going to have my head tacked on the wall. I searched my pocket for my phone and pulled it out. The screen read that I had twenty-four missed calls from 'Mom', three from Finn, and six from Mercedes, probably wondering where her best gay was.

I called my mom back, even though my cell phone said it was ten past four in the morning. Thankfully, she answered on the second ring.

"Oh my God, Noah, you scared the shit out of me," Mae Puckerman sighed. "Where have you been? Where are you now?"

"I was at Santana's but I found a friend up mine in the alleyway near her house… he-he… God, I can't…" I mumbled, realizing I just couldn't repeat what had happened last night. "I'm at the hospital. Finn and Mr. Hummel are here, too."

"Oh Lord, tell me it wasn't that sweet Kurt boy!" Mae gasped.

"I can't say that," I practically whispered. "Ma, I- he's Finn's little brother. What if-? He can't just… be gone. He can't." My voice broke and I held the tears in.

"I know sweetheart," Mae said softly. "Have you checked on him this morning? Maybe the doctors will let you see him."

"Yeah… thanks, Ma, I'll do that," I said quickly into my phone, before hanging up and snapping the crappy flip-phone closed. I stood from my seat, my legs and bottom aching from sitting for hours and my neck feeling odd from sleeping upright.

I walked unsteadily to the double doors that marked where the waiting room ended and the emergency rooms began.

"Sir, I'm afraid you can't go in there without consulting a doctor," a light voice stated nervously.

I turned to find a young, blonde secretary, nibbling her bottom lip anxiously, as if awaiting a seriously bad reaction from me.

"Alright. Sorry. May I see a doctor, please? I need to see my friend," I asked.

The woman looked startled by my reaction, but used the phone on her desk to call for a doctor.

"Dr. Wilde, we have a young man who is requesting to see his friend? Ah…" she paused, looking at me. "What's your friend's name?"

"Kurt Hummel," I choked out.

"Ah, Kurt Hummel, Doctor," she said pleasantly. "Okay, thank you sir."

She hung up the phone and pointed to the double doors. "Room 2o8, hun."

I nodded, silently cursing myself for not remembering the room number, and slipping through the doors, finding '208' easily. I opened the door quietly, entering and shutting the door behind me. I stared at the sweet-looking boy on the bed, whose blue eyes were open and wide, looking back at me curiously.

A small, shy smile broke out on my face. "You're alive."

"Only because of you," Kurt said, his voice raspy. "I never got to say thank you for saving my life."

"I didn't know I had saved you a couple hours ago," I mumbled. Kurt blinked his doe-eyes, tipping his head to the side carefully, as if trying to get water out of his ear after swimming for too long.

"I don't really remember a lot from last night, but I think I owe Santana a good deal, too. Though, I don't think any amount of homemade cookies will pay back what you did for me."

"I think I saved your dad more than you, actually," I joked lightly. Kurt's face lit up.

"Is my dad here?" he asked excitedly.

"Yeah, and Finn. They were both so worried about you. The only reason Carole isn't here is because she couldn't get someone to run her morning shift at Olive Garden for her," I explained.

"Can I see my dad?" Kurt whispered.

"Duh, goofball," I chuckled. "I'll send them back."

"Where are you going?" Kurt asked, sitting up taller.

"School," I responded. "Not all of us have the excuse you have."

Kurt looked disappointed. "Okay."

"Unless you wanted me to stay?" I wondered timidly. "I mean, I've skipped school before, but I actually have a reason this time, so…"

"No, you don't have to, it's okay. I'll just be miserable while Finn drones on about Rachel's boobs, and my dad awkwardly talks about his latest cars that he's fixed up," Kurt sighed wistfully, looking down at his lap with a pout.

"Yes or no, Kurt. I don't do girly half-answer shit," I teased.

"Could you stay?" Kurt asked, a cautious grin on his angelic face.

I noticed then, that even with a purpling bruise on his cheek, stiches over his eyebrows, and a thousand more injuries I'm sure, Kurt was still stunning. He was as elegant as he was when he waltzed down the halls of McKinley without a care in the world. And right now, he looked even more like a beautiful, blissfully ignorant kid; his eyes shining like glass, his smile taking up half of his face, causing his pink cheeks to bunch up with baby fluff.

"Yeah," I murmured dreamily. I walked to his bedside, and took his face in my large, calloused hands, watching as Kurt's doe-eyes widened to the size of dinner plates. "I'll stay."

I kissed his nose carefully, before skittering out of the door like a love-stricken five year old. When I had gotten to the waiting room, my grin was making my cheeks ache and my heart thudded hard in my ribcage. Burt was still asleep in his chair, but Finn was rubbing the sleep from his eyes and sitting up. His brown eyes found my own grey orbs and he gave me a questioning look.

"Why the hell are you grinning like a douche? My brother is almost dead," Finn grumbled, advancing towards me.

"Far from it, actually," I said smiling even wider.

Finn's mouth dropped open. "He's- He's alive? And awake?"

"Yeah," I nodded, "But you'd better get in there quick before he falls asleep."

I chuckled lightly as Finn scrambled through the double doors on the other side of the room, desperate to get to his little bro.

I decide to test my good luck by waking the sleeping bear known at Burt Hummel.

"Yo, Burt," I called, shaking his burly frame lightly. "Dude, your son's awake."

"Mmpgh," came Burt's response. I rolled my eyes.

I rolled Burt out of the chair and onto the floor and still he wouldn't wake. So, using my ridiculously stupid judgment, I went to the bathroom and filled my hands with the freezing water from the sink.

Rolling Burt over onto his back I dumped the water on Burt's face, jumping back as he sputtered and woke up. He furiously wiped at his face, cussing softly and swinging around as he got up.

He opened his eyes and saw me. "Puckerman, what the hell?"

"You're son is awake," I said, and smirked in bemusement as he rushed to the double doors as well.

I followed him at a much slower pace and went into Kurt's room where Burt was embracing Kurt tightly, kissing his head like a hen pecks at chicken-feed.

"Da-ad," Kurt whined, though I could tell from his blissed out face that he was insanely happy. He caught my eye, his own blue spheres twinkling with amusement when a blush ran into my cheeks. I rubbed the back of my neck twitchily, biting my lip and looking at the floor for a minute. I stepped into the room and sat in a white plastic chair in the corner. I watched as Finn and Kurt talked and Burt just smiled at his son like he was the Christmas present he'd always dreamed of getting.

But my main focus was Kurt. The way his nose had a teensy smattering of light brown freckles that I'd never noticed before, and the way he licked his lips constantly to keep them wet. He sat cross-legged and his back was straight. Near his perfectly round bubble butt, there was a subtle curve in his spine, like a girl would have. He talked with his hands, I noticed, and he had a habit if nibbling on the left corner of his lip when he was deep in thought. His skin was an incredible mix of a milky crème color and a rosy pink flush. His eyelashes were endless, and each time he batted them, they fanned out across his cheekbones for a moment, before those intense aqua eyes reopened.

"Dude," Finn muttered to me, nudging my arm. "You've been, like, transfixed by Kurt's eyelashes for five minutes. You okay?"

"Fine," I answered. "He's beautiful, you know."

I hadn't meant to blurt that out, but I did, and Finn just smirked.

"I know. I've seen you drool over his body too many times to count. You just didn't realize."

"Really?" I wondered, not remembering any time before now that I had really taken time to appreciate Kurt's figure, or anything other than his personality. But I think I might have noticed it, if subconsciously.

I continued gazing at Kurt, a small crease forming between my eyebrows from concentration. Kurt giggled and the sound rang in my ears entertainingly, like little wind chimes bumping into each other in the breeze.

I smiled subconsciously, and Burt caught me. He frowned, tipping his head inquisitively.

Kurt noticed his dad watching me, and I broke out of my trance when Kurt snapped his elegant, long fingers under my nose.

"Wha—?" I asked, shaking my head to clear the dazed fog out of my brain.

"You're drooling," Kurt stated with a laugh. He used a tissue from the side table next to his hospital bed and wiped a little bit of what appeared to be drool from the corner of my mouth.

I licked my lips at our close proximity and Kurt's breath hitched noticeably.

"Well, I gotta go to school," Finn coughed, dragging Burt out as well.

Kurt hardly noticed them leaving, only muttering a little 'goodbye' at their exit, his eyes trained on my grey ones.

I leaned closer to Kurt, my hand finding his jaw, which I traced with my finger. Kurt's breathing was small little hitching breaths, and he moaned softly, almost inaudibly, but the vibration of it tickled my fingers. Our noses were touching now and I quickly brushed my lips against Kurt's so nothing could stop this. No nurse would walk in right as we were about to kiss, like in those dumb movies that keep you waiting.

I locked our lips firmly, Kurt's slightly damp lips rubbing against mine. Kurt responded anxiously, pressing back softly at first. He whimpered low in his throat and I gasped as blood rushed from my cheeks to my groin. I groaned and used my hands to climb onto the bed next to Kurt. His surprisingly strong arms wrapped around my neck, pulling us closer. My hands rubbed up and down Kurt's hospital-gown-covered back as he tentatively opened his mouth a little, making the kisses wetter, hotter, more intense.

I felt a light bit of pressure on my straining jeans and realizing Kurt was palming my crotch softly, as if he was worried that he would mess up.

I used the hands that were on Kurt's back to pull him into my muscled chest. I broke the kiss, panting hard and gazed into Kurt's azure eyes, hoping he knew how much I cared for him. Kurt rubbed his nose against mine in an Eskimo kiss and giggled happily.

"Thank you," he murmured, his lips brushing mine as he spoke.

"For what?" I asked quietly.

"Saving me, giving me my first kiss," Kurt listed.

"That was your first kiss?" I frowned.

"Yeah," Kurt smiled, "It was perfect."

"Nothing's ever perfect enough for Kurt Hummel," I chuckled, feigning astonishment. "I'm quite honored."

"Don't be ridiculous, Noah," Kurt giggled. "There's always room for improvement."

"Then I'd better practice," I smiled, kissing him again. Little tiny pecks on his cheeks and nose, longer kisses on his lips, and little nips to his neck.

"You two are really cute, you know?"

I pulled away from Kurt quickly, finding that a young-looking nurse was smiling at us from the doorway.

Kurt was bright red and grinning, and I'm sure I looked the same.

"Thanks," I murmured, my lips twitching up in a nervous grin.

"Don't be nervous, kiddo. I'm just here to take this little sweetie's vitals. Then you guys can do whatever you want in here. Just close the curtains if you need a little privacy," the nurse said with a wink.

Kurt let out a tiny squeak of embarrassment, and I smiled at him. He really was perfect.

The nurse quickly took his vitals and left with a giggle. I smiled at Kurt before getting up.

"Where are you going?" Kurt asked.

"School, sweetheart. I don't think you'd want a boyfriend who's dumb as rocks, right?" I chuckled.

"Boyfriend?" Kurt asked.

I stumbled over my words. "I- I mean if you wanted to-I really like you and I—"

Kurt smiled. "I'd like that."


End file.
